


Armor: LadyNoir July 2018

by HariWrites



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: 11th Century, 11th Century AU, Adrien is still French, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, F/M, Ladynoir July, Marinette is Gaelic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-05-31 20:06:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15126899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HariWrites/pseuds/HariWrites
Summary: When a malevolent spirit enacts strange deeds throughout the palace and its grounds, two unlikely heroes are entrusted with great power: Mari, a Gaelic servant to the House of Dunkeld and Adrien, son of a French nobleman, positioned in the court of Malcolm King of Scots by the Norman King, William I of England.A #LoveLadyNoir fic inspired by Armor, by Landon Austin





	1. First impressions

Following the Battle of Hastings and the death of King Harold, some English Noblemen fled north to Scotland to make alliances with King Malcolm III. In 1070, Malcolm King of Scots married the fugitive princess, Margaret, sister of Edgar Ætheling, the last heir of the House of Wessex. Troubled by this, William the Conqueror marched into Scotland with his army in 1072 and forced Malcolm to swear allegiance to him by signing the Treaty of Abernethy and giving up his son, Duncan as a hostage against future good conduct.

Two years later, the House of Dunkeld faced a new danger, one less tangible and more horrifying than before…

∆∆∆∆

“Mari, come in.” The queen was more animated than usual today.

“Your Majesty?” Mari entered Queen Margaret’s bedchambers carrying her chemise and tunic, laying them over the chair.

“Did you hear what happened to the gardener last night?’ Mari shook her head. “My husband told me that faeries are loose in the palace, but I think it might be evil spirits. Poor Fred, he was changed into a tree creature.” The young queen spoke quickly, excitedly.

“Ma’am, it all sounds so fantastical. How do you know it’s true?” Mari didn’t want to imply that the king was a liar, but it all sounded like a tall tale.

“I saw it with my own eyes, Mari! I was walking through the garden with the king when a black spirit came to rest on his hand and the evil spread into his whole body. I was frozen to the spot, but Malcolm knew to hide.”

The queen waved her arms as she told the story. It was clear she was excited by it all. Mari managed to coax her out of her nightdress, get her to wash and put her under-tunic on through all her gesticulations.

“What happened to him?” In spite of her incredulity, Mari was hooked.

“I don’t know,” The queen said, wide-eyed.

“He’s still loose?!”

Margaret nodded solemnly, her excitement suddenly doused by the sobering thought. Silence fell as Mari brushed her hair and braided it, wrapping it in a long ribbon. She pulled her tunic over her head before fixing her veil in place. The queen’s knee was bobbing up and down impatiently as Mari groomed her.

“Ma’am? Is something upsetting you?” She asked.

“Sorry, Mari. I want to get to the chapel to pray for poor Fred and find some solution to this strangeness. God is testing us, I wish to know why.” The queen explained.

Mari tied a belt around Margaret’s waist and regarded her. She was dressed and ready to go out into the palace.

“Well, I’m all finished here, Ma’am so you can do as you wish.” Mari smiled.

Her mistress was kind and compassionate, she knew. Stories passed down amongst the servants suggested that Malcolm’s father, Duncan, was a cruel man and many were secretly glad when Macbeth came to the throne. When Malcolm assassinated and succeeded Lulach, her father voiced his concern that his reputation would prove him to be a harsh master. In reality, he was authoritative and calculating but he was also fair and decent towards his staff. His relationship with Margaret softened him and made his more gracious, losing his son made him merciful.

Queen Margaret dismissed her and she left, hurrying through the corridors towards the kitchen. She needed to help her father with the bread before the rest of the household woke up. It was lucky that the queen was such an early riser (she liked to get up and pray before sunrise), it allowed her to dress her before heading back to assist her father.

She was in a rush and wasn’t paying attention. She didn’t expect to meet anyone in the corridor, she certainly didn’t expect to crash headlong into someone.

She bounced off his chest and landed on the floor.

“Excusez-moi! Je suis vraiment désolé,” The young man held out his hand to her.

“Chan e, tha mi duilich. Cha robh mi a 'coimhead.” She replied, taking his hand.

He smiled quizzically and tilted his head. “Vous parlez français?”

She bobbed her head. French noblemen had been a regular part of palace life for the past few years, she learned the language by listening to them and their children. As a servant, none of them took any notice of her.

“Ach tha thu gàidhlig?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m Gaelic. That doesn’t mean I can’t understand French, servants are capable of more than sweeping your fireplace.” Her indignance spilled out before she could consider the consequences of speaking to a nobleman like this. “You speak Gaelic, apparently.”

He shrugged. “I have lessons with Donald and Malcolm sometimes. Your English is good, too.”

He pulled her up to her feet and she found herself looking into his eyes. Green, sparkling eyes that shone straight into her soul. He had a kind face with distinguished features, blonde, slightly scruffy hair and soft hands.

“I- I- I- I have to go… help make the bed… make dread… um, bread. I have to make bread. I… Thank you and I’m sorry.” She couldn’t stop the nervous stammer and she had to get out of there.

“I don’t know your name,” He called after her.

She stopped and turned to him. “It’s Mari.”

“I’m Adrien,” He said, smiling _that_ smile again. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Likewise, sir.” She curtsied quickly and ran to the kitchen.

In the kitchen, she kissed her mother before finding her father pulling loaves of bread out of the oven.

“Sorry, dad. I was coming to help you with that.”

“You have enough to do without helping me, Mari,” Her father assured her.

“Thank you. I have some tunics to repair and embroidery to do,” Mari admitted. “I should go get that done. Call me when you’re preparing lunch, I can help you then.”

“Only if you’ve finished your work,” Tom smiled kindly.

“I promise.”

∆∆∆∆

In her room, set on top of the pile of clothing repairs she had to do was a small wooden box. She opened it and a red and black pixie appeared out of nowhere. She tripped backwards and scrabbled herself away from it. She couldn’t scream, her throat felt frozen in horror.

“Please, calm down, Mari! My name is Tikki and I’m here to help you.” The creature spoke.

“Is… Is this about the changeling that took Fred Haprèle?” She managed to ask.

The faerie nodded solemnly. “And you have been chosen to defeat the powers that caused it.”

“Me? I’m just a normal girl, how can I help?”

Tikki grinned. “That’s why you need me.”

 

As Tikki explained everything to her, elsewhere in the palace, the young Marquis d’Agreste was discovering a similar box in his chambers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Excusez-moi! Je suis vraiment désolé - Excuse me! I'm really sorry.  
> Chan e, tha mi duilich. Cha robh mi a 'coimhead - No, I'm sorry. I didn't look.  
> Vous parlez français - You speak French?  
> Ach tha thu gàidhlig? - But are you Gaelic?


	2. Akuma

Night fell, the royal family retired to their chambers and the little red bug-faerie finished explaining the strange world of the Miraculous to her.

“Tikki, spots on!” She called out the words her kwami told her to say.

Suddenly she felt like a damp log thrown into the fire. Everything inside her sparked and hissed and popped. Light and lightness overcame her and soon, she was transformed.

She looked down and noted that her linen tunic and apron dress had disappeared and had been replaced with what looked like the garb of a Gaelic warrior. Instead of the usual saffron-dyed orange-yellow, however, her knee-length tunic was bright red and covered in black spots. Her long black hair was braided down her back, a red ribbon across her forehead held it in place before winding through the plait and ending in a large knot. A leather strap across her body held a quiver with a wooden bow and arrows and a red belt held a round object in place. That must be the yo-yo Tikki told her about; she was to use it to capture the akuma that was plaguing Fred.

Mari found a large enough window near the stairs, jumped out and landed delicately on the grass outside. She ran towards the place the queen told her Fred first transformed and found that she wasn’t alone.

A figure in a bright green tunic covered in black chainmail was investigating the same spot. His black coif sported funny little ears that made him look like a cat. His eyes appeared completely green except for a vertical black slit in the centre of each. Black paint in a stripe over his eyes and the bridge of his nose obscured his facial features, making him unrecognisable as anyone from the palace.

“You must be the beetle-warrior my kwami told me about,” He said brightly. “Come here, my man, help me figure this out.”

“I’m nobody’s man,” Mari felt herself pout.

“A lady-beetle… How fun.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Okay, cat. How do we find Fred and release him from the Brollacan?”

“What-a-can?” The young man narrowed his eyes and the result was even more cat-like than before.

“Brollacan.” She stated. “A shapeless creature of the night. This ‘akuma’ we have to capture.”

“Oh, that,” He stared over her shoulder. “I have a feeling it’ll find us, my Lady.”

She turned to look at the point the cat was fixated on and saw the tree creature the queen described. He was approaching them, leaves rustling as he rushed forwards.

“I don’t know, Cat, after what happened to Macbeth, this walking, talking tree seems like poor taste.” She quipped.

“MacWho?” The cat asked.

“You’re not from here, are you?” She looked at him, now trying to place him.

Tikki assured her that magic would help to conceal her identity from others and the same must be true for him. He wasn’t a  Sassenach. Blonde hair peeking from his chainmail hood and the green eyes suggested Norse, but he could also be Norman. Maybe it didn’t matter.

Right now, she had bigger things to worry about.

“I think it’s time to try out those special powers we have, my lady.” He suggested.

“You read my mind, kitty.” She agreed. “Let’s catch this akuma.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, history fans, I know that King Macbeth actually died in 1057 at the Battle of Lumphanan in Aberdeenshire, and that’s not anywhere near Dunsinane Hill in Perthshire. Also, Shakespeare didn’t write "I will not be afraid of death and bane, Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane" until 1606 so Mari in our story wouldn’t know about this portrayal. That said, the visual image tickled me and I had to include her joke. Indulge me XD


	3. Lucky Charm or Cataclysm

The colossal tree-beast advanced on them at speed. Assuming her bow and arrow would be useless against a wooden creature, she grabbed the yo-yo and spun it in front of her like a shield. To her right, Cat grabbed his staff and flourished it in front of himself.

“We have to find where the akuma is hiding, right?” Cat asked.

“Yes. It landed on his hand at first so I guess we start by looking at branches and work our way in from there.” She suggested.

“How do you know that?”

“The Quee- uh, I heard about it somewhere,” Mari stammered.

She scrutinised the thing as it approached, two of its branches were more hand-like than the rest and she spied a glimmer of metal around one of them. A gold bracelet, perhaps?

“Cat! The bracelet, do you see it?” She called out.

“Got it, My Lady.” Cat engaged the tree in battle, using his staff to fight off its attempts to use its branches to knock him over.

Cat fought valiantly and he was obviously a skilled swordsman, but the tree-beast was strong and radiated a strange dark energy. She knew he wouldn’t be able to fend it off for long.

This was the moment when Tikki had told her to toss the yo-yo towards the sky and say, “Lucky Charm!”

A large fishing net landed in her arms. Alone, that wouldn’t stop him; she needed some way to restrain him. The quiver suddenly weighed heavily on her back and an idea came to her.  

“Cat? Can you lead him around the palace to where the King’s stables are?” She shouted.

“Certainly, My Lady.”

She flung the yo-yo towards the palace roof and felt it connect. With a shoulder diclocatingly sudden jolt, it pulled her upwards and she swung herself over the building to land on the other side by the stables. She used arrows to suspend the net across the space between two outhouses and stood on top of the largest one, waiting for Cat and the tree-man to appear around the corner. She waved him over, indicating where he should lead the creature.

Just before Cat reached the net, he magically extended his staff and vaulted himself up to join her on the roof. The tree was tangled in the net and Mari swung her yo-yo to pull the arrows from one side free, wrapping it completely and knocking it on its side.

“We need to break the bracelet,” She told Cat.

“Leave that to me.” He held his hand up and yelled, “Cataclysme!”

So, the Cat was French, then.

Cat’s right hand glowed with menace and he placed it over the gold bracelet. It disintegrated and the dark spirit fluttered out in the form of a black butterfly. Mari had never seen anything like it and she felt compelled to stand and gawp like Cat was doing, but she had one more job to do. She swung the yo-yo and it opened up like a winged creature and released a white light. When she aimed it at the tiny demon, the yo-yo closed around it.

“I release you from evil,” She told it as she caught the red and black disc in her hands.

It opened again and a white butterfly flittered out and disappeared into the forest. As it did, the tree-beast changed into Fred again. She and Cat rushed forward to untangle him from the net.

Once Fred was freed, she threw the net into the air as hard as she could and cried, “Mìorbhaileach daolag-bhreac!”

All around them, the world returned to normal, Fred’s bracelet repaired itself, the arrows in the side of the stables disappeared and returned to her quiver. Broken branches on trees in the forest were fixed and trampled plants in the gardens stood tall once more. Cat and Fred stood with her, watching it unfold with mouths hanging open in amazement. Both men crossed themselves and Mari silently thanked the  Cailleach  for her gift of creation.

“Thank you… What do I call you?” Fred asked.

“I’m Cat Noir,”

“And I’m. Uh.” Mari couldn’t think of a name.

“This is Lady-Beetle.” Cat put his hand on her shoulder proudly.

Lady-Beetle. She could live with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Mìorbhaileach daolag-bhreac - Miraculous ladybug
> 
> The Cailleach is also known as Beira, Queen of Winter, and is the creator and weather deity in Gaelic folklore. Scotland was a polytheistic society for many centuries and although Catholicism was in Scotland before then, it was Queen Margaret's influence that brought it to prevailance.
> 
> ‘Butterfly’ comes from the Old English word, ‘buterflēoge’ so I’m confident in using it to describe the akuma. Based on the movement of people between Northern England and Scotland during that period, as well as the Anglo-Saxon Queen Margaret, I’m going to assume that Mari knows the word. The word ‘ladybug/ladybird’ wasn’t coined until the 1600s, though, so I’m not using it here. The Scots Gaelic, ‘daolag-bhreac’ means ‘speckled beetle’ and its usage could more plausibly go as far back as the 11th century. 
> 
> Fun fact. The Gaelic for ladybug is ‘daolag bhreac dhearg’ which Google translates as ‘red trout puppy’ XD


	4. Puns

“Well, My Lady, I have a feline I’ll be seeing you again soon,” Cat Noir bowed to her.

“Do you think there are more of those things?” She asked. Did he know something she didn’t?

“According to my kwami, it’s likely. These strange occurrences aren’t often isolated.” He shrugged.

A chime sounded from her earrings, his ring followed a moment later. Mari put a hand to her ear.

“Oh, oh. I have to go before I transform.”

“Wait! Can’t I know who you are?” He grabbed her hand, trying to stop her from leaving.

“No, Cat. I’m sorry. Neither of us can know who we really are.” She sighed.

“Help meow-t, My Lady. I’m guessing you’re from the palace, too, maybe we’ve already bumped into each other over the years?” He reasoned.

She laughed wryly. “I doubt it, _Monsieur_. I don’t think we move in the same circles.”

“Maybe not,” He smiled cheekily. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t know each other, _Mo Bhoireannach_.

Another chime interrupted them. Cat looked at his ring and saw that only two pads remained. Mari felt panic rise in her chest, she had to get back to her room.

“Time to wrap this up, kitty.” She said impatiently.

“You’re right, if I stick around, you'd see me without my mask and you wouldn't be able to resist me.” He winked at her and vaulted up to the palace roof.

He was too far away to see her roll her eyes or shake her head at him. Silly cat. With him safely out of the way, she took her opportunity to run towards the palace and sneak inside. She transformed back to normal just as she ran into her quarters.

As the Queen’s dresser, she was lucky enough to have her own room. It was a tiny sewing room, mostly filled with a wooden table covered in material, threads, needles, thimbles and garments, waiting to be repaired or embroidered. In the corner, a thin straw-filled mattress was opposite, her belongings folded neatly in the corner. She pulled off her apron dress and shoes and flopped on the mattress in her undertunic.

Her kwami dropped next to her.

“So tired. Do you have any food? She croaked weakly.

Mari nodded and grabbed a tin from the table. Her father kept it stocked with odd pieces of bread, bits of broken oatcake and occasional sweet treats that weren’t considered good enough for the royal family to eat. She was known to get engrossed in her sewing and forget to eat, so Tom made sure she had sustenance on hand for those times. Tikki took a piece of bannock and nibbled it gratefully.

“This wasn’t the last creature we’ll have to battle, is it?” Mari asked.

Tikki shook her head and looked grave. “No. If past experience is any indication, that was just the beginning.”

She swallowed thickly, that wasn’t a reassuring thought and would ordinarily keep her up all night. Tonight, however, exhaustion took hold and Mari slept deeply, except when a certain black cat entered her dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Monsieur - Sir  
> Mo Bhoireannach - My Lady  
> Bannock - a basic bread, cooked on a hot stone


	5. Bell

The Queen had been extra excited to see Mari this morning. She had witnessed the appearance of Cat Noir and Lady-Beetle from her bedroom window and told her in detail everything the pair had done to release Fred from the evil spirit.

“I prayed for rescue and He sent angels to save us from the darkness that has come over the kingdom.” The Queen was effusive.

Mari worried aloud that Margaret would feel let down if she ever discovered that the knight and the warrior were just ordinary people, not heavenly beings. From her unique perspective, she was concerned about disappointing the Queen and all the other people looking to her and Cat to save the day.

“These heroes are sent by God, I’m sure of it, Mari, whether they are celestial or earthly, they are most certainly angels.” The Queen reassured her.

Her words buoyed up her spirits and Mari was feeling a lot more confident about her newfound superhero status as she returned from dressing the Queen. She was carrying a gown that needed to be let out. Margaret was pregnant with her fourth child and was growing larger every day, which meant Mari was extra busy. She cleared a space on her work table and laid the folded gown on it. Tikki flew around her, glad to be out of hiding.

“Your queen is a delight, Mari.”

She smiled. “She is, I’m very lucky to have a mistress like her.”

Queen Margaret had been raised in the royal courts of Hungary and was used to a level of luxury that Malcolm was unaccustomed to. She imported fine cloths from Europe and Mari was trusted to turn them into beautiful gowns for her. As a result, Mari was allowed certain luxuries the other servants didn’t get. Her own room was just the start of her privileges. The Queen took time to teach Mari embroidery techniques that she’d never seen before as well as telling her Bible stories and helping her learn to read them for herself.

Mari was lucky, too, that her parents were in charge of the royal kitchen. She would be able to sneak a few treats for Tikki, who seemed to have a sweet tooth.

“Shall we go find you a snack in the kitchen? She asked her kwami.

“Yes, please!” The bug squeaked.

One of the bells in the kitchen chimed as she entered and her mother turned to her, still clutching a half-plucked duck and looking stressed.

“Mari, dear,” Sabine asked. “Can you take that tray up to the princes? I think Nino has been held up with the King this morning and they keep ringing.”

“Of course, mum,” Mari said, picking up the tray and heading out the kitchens.

A servant’s work was never done.


	6. Secrets

“It was a warrior and a knight, they beat the evil right out of Fred,” Prince Malcolm insisted. “Two men from different sides who’ve joined forces to battle the devil in our palace.”

“Naw, I heard they did a magic spell and sent the spirits away,” Donald claimed. “And, I heard from Nino, who heard from Mylene, who heard from Fred that the warrior was a woman, not a man.”

“Naw.” His older brother was incredulous.

“Aye! Nino wouldn’t lie.” Donald argued.

Adrien was glad he was an only child sometimes. Watching the young princes bicker like this was one of those times. It was odd, though, listening to them talk about the new heroes like they were some divine or magical beings.

Of course, his kwami, currently hiding in his tunic truly was a supernatural creature, but Adrien was not, he was just a normal, fifteen-year-old boy. Yes, he was the son of a nobleman, who happened to be one of King William’s most trusted emissaries, and he knew Gabriel was currently trying to negotiate his marriage to various princesses throughout Europe to further advance his station, but apart from all that, he was normal.

“Adrien? What do you think? Could one of the saviours really be a woman?” Donald asked.

Just then, a knock at the door saved him from having to answer. Malcolm bid entry and a young servant girl brought a tray filled with bread, fruit, nuts and cake into the room. He recognised her as the girl he crashed into the other day, the feisty one with the bluebell eyes.

“Where’s Nino?” Malcolm inquired.

“He was held up, Your Highness, and I didn’t want to leave you waiting,” The girl said meekly.

She busied herself with tray, placing it on the table at the side of the room, being careful not to disturb the books, parchment, quills and ink the princes were using for their studies. Adrien watched her, something about her was captivating. Was it the way she spoke to his the other day, like she wasn’t intimidated by him? Or was is that, even though she was a servant, she spoke French and English as well as her native Gaelic? He wanted to know more about her.

“You didn’t answer, Adrien,” Donald reminded him. “Could a woman really be a warrior?”

He considered how valiantly his Lady fought, how her clever plan eventually caught the man, Fred, and released him from the akuma. “Yes. A woman could most definitely be a warrior.”

“You think?” The prince sounded incredulous and Adrien noticed the servant girl press her lips together, stifling her own response.

“I think that women are capable of more than you think, Donald. Pay more attention to the women around you and I think you’d be surprised by what you learn.” He said, eyes flitting to the girl.

He was sure she caught his gaze for a moment. Or maybe he just hoped that she did. He couldn’t put his finger on why he found her so interesting.

“What about you?” Donald addressed the servant. “What have you heard about these heroes?”

“Um, not much, Your Highness,” She looked at the prince’s feet as she spoke. “All I know is what the Queen told me, and what a few of the staff have heard.”

“Which is?” The younger prince prompted her.

“A red warrior girl and black knight appeared from the skies and released the gardener from his evil spirit. The Queen believes they were, uh, sent by God. The servants think they’re The Cailleach and Lugh, come to rescue us from malefic forces.” Her cheeks burned red as she addressed Donald.

“And, what do you think, Mari, isn’t it?” Adrien was compelled to ask.

“Oh, well… I think that whoever they are, they are here to protect us. That can only be a good thing, right?” She said. “Is there anything more? Or may I be excused, Your Highnesses? Monsieur?”

Malcolm granted her leave and she hurried out of the room. The three young men watched her go with intrigue, their curious expressions remained as they stared at the door she closed behind her.

“Is it me, or is she hiding something?” Donald asked, breaking the silence.

“Aye, that girl has secrets she’s not telling,” Malcolm agreed.

“Adrien retorted, “Don’t we all?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lugh is the Celtic sun god and master craftsman. He is portrayed as a warrior, king and saviour. It is considered in some myths that he was the husband of The Cailleach.


	7. Partners

“Tell me the princes were studying.”

Nino was in the kitchen, talking to Mari’s mother when she returned.

“There were signs that studying was going to happen…” She began.

“But?”

“They were gossiping with one of the Normans about what happened last night,” She admitted.

“Adrien?” She nodded and wrinkled her nose in displeasure. “You don’t like him?”

She shrugged, she didn’t really know him. “He’s fine, I suppose. He just seems like a bit of a pretentious arse.”

Nino laughed. “I think you’ve got the wrong man. Adrien’s one of the good ones. He’s got all this privilege, but he’s down to earth. Give him a chance and you’d like him.”

She was unconvinced. Grabbing a piece of her father’s pear, almond and honey cake, she returned to her sewing room and let Tikki out of hiding. As she munched on the cake, she explained further about the Miraculouses.

“There is another Miraculous, like yours and Cat Noir’s, a butterfly brooch, that is being used for evil. If you can find out who has it and retrieve it, you can stop the attacks.”

“Attacks? Plural? There’s only been one.”

“So far, that you know of,” Tikki insisted. “There will be more, that sort of power is addictive.”

A scream rang throughout the castle ground as if to prove Tikki right. Mari ran to the window and saw people running from the edge of the forest.

“I guess this is when I say the thing?” She looked at her kwami, who nodded. “Tikki, spots on!”

The transformation washed over her and she wondered if she’d ever get used to the feeling. She slipped from her room and found her trusty window. As she ran towards the source of the commotion, Cat Noir appeared by her side.

“My Lady, fancy seeing you here.”

“Where else would I be? The action’s this way, isn’t it?”

Cat’s face broke into a delighted grin. “And there’s nobody I’d rather run towards it with.”

“Okay, don’t ruin the moment,” She laughed.

They reached the forest and a giant bird swooped towards them. Cat pushed her out of the way and they rolled together along the grass before coming to a stop, her on top of him. He looked utterly mortified at the position they found themselves in and Mari couldn’t help but giggle at his embarrassment.

The bird swooped again and they scrambled for the shelter of the trees.

“Great, first we have to fight a tree and now we’ve got a bird-man to deal with,” Cat complained.

Mari looked more closely at the bird-man and saw a leather object hanging from a string, tangled around its leg. It took her a minute to connect it to the man underneath the feathers.

“That’s Mr Ramier,” She exclaimed.

“Who?” Cat dodged the claws.

“The King’s head falconer, Mr Ramier,” She elucidated. “King Malcolm usually goes out with him in the mornings.”

“So, where’s the King?” Cat asked.

She drew her bow and sent an arrow at the giant falcon, narrowly missing him, forcing him to retreat and giving her and Cat a moment to regroup.

“We need to find him and we need to get the lure that’s hanging from his leg. That’s got to be where the akuma is.” She said.

“Concentrate on getting the lure and your cure should get the King to safety.”  He never took his attention off Mr Ramier. “You’re the key to this, LB. You’re the important one.”

She held his face in her hands, making him look her in the eye. “No, Cat, we’re partners. You and I are in this together. I can’t do it without you.”

“Okay,” His smile was grateful. “Now call up that lucky charm and let’s save the day together, partner.”


	8. Hand Kiss

“Lucky Charm!” Mari called, and a red and black apron landed in her arms. 

“What are we meant to do with that?!” Cat asked and Mari shared his incredulity.

“I wish I knew.”

She turned the cloth over in her hands, but no ideas came to her. Tikki had told her that the lucky charm would help her to capture the akuma… but what if it was a clue, not a tool?

“I’m not rushing you or anything, bug, but Mr Falcon is on his way back,” Cat called as he swung his baton to ward off the bird-man.

“Cover me. We’re going to the kitchen!”

She tossed the apron over her shoulder and ran back towards the palace, Cat hot on her heels. She barged in through the pantry and into the kitchen, where her mother was preparing the dinner.

“Mu- m-m-missus, I need to take some meat, do you mind?” She stumbled over her words, so close to giving herself away. 

“Uh, of course, Lady-Beetle,” Sabine said, expertly slicing a fillet from the duck in front of her and handing it to Mari.

She thanked her and ran back out to the palace grounds again, grabbed her yo-yo from her hip and tied the duck to it, effectively turning it into a lure. She swung it like she’d seen Mr Ranier do and tried to block out the fact that this particular falcon  _ was _ Mr Ranier.

“When he comes towards me, I need you to do your cataclysm thing on the lure, Cat.” She instructed him, standing her ground as the bird-man swooped towards her.

“Cataclysme!” He shouted and she watched from the corner of her eye as he leapt and seized the leather and feather object that hung from Mr Falcon’s leg.

It turned to dust and the black butterfly flew out. Mr Ranier transformed back to himself and dropped from the sky. Mari caught him before he impacted the ground. Cat rushed over to assist while she purified the akuma.

She threw the apron in the air. “Mìorbhaileach daolag-bhreac!”

With the King’s head falconer safely returned to normal and back, tending to his birds, Cat turned to her and grinned.

“Bien jou é,” He said.

“Well played yourself, kitty.”

“And, thank you.”

She frowned. “Why are you thanking me?”

“For reminding me that we’re a team. I can’t do any of this without you, but I’d forgotten that you can’t do this without me, either.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke and Mari thought he sounded nervous.

“Cat?” She reached for his hand. “I was serious about that, okay? You and I are partners, never forget that.”

His smile was soft and his green eyes glittered with emotion. He twisted his fingers subtly so that he was now the one holding her hand. He bowed from the waist before gently grazing her knuckles with his lips.

“M’Lady.” He winked.

She stood, stunned as Cat ran towards the palace and vaulted onto the roof before disappearing. Mari couldn’t move, she could still feel Cat’s breath on her hand and a tingle lingered where he kissed her. Raising it to her face, she noted the heat in her cheeks; she was blushing. The warning tone from her earrings brought her out of her daze and she ran to the palace to find shelter to de-transform.

Lady-Beetle dropped and she became Mari once more but the thrill of Cat’s hand kiss didn’t disappear.


	9. Claws n Bugs

Mari was going cross-eyed trying to concentrate on the intricate stitching of her embroidery in the dimming light inside her room so she decided to take the Queen’s gown outside to finish it. She found a sunny spot on the grass and settled down to work while Tikki flew into a nearby bush to explore. As she worked, a speckled beetle landed on the gown.

“Those aren’t real flowers, silly bug.” She put her finger in front of the beetle and it climbed onto it.

The bug walked across her fingers and she had to turn her hand over a number of times to keep track of it. Occasionally, it would flutter its red and black wings before deciding to stay put.  

“Nice spots, by the way,” She smiled to herself. “I wonder if you have a black and green partner, too? Does he drive you crazy in the worst and best ways possible?

The lady-beetle scuttled along her knuckles and she flexed each finger in turn as it crossed them. “You know, he kissed me right there? No one has ever treated me like that before. I’m a servant, a seamstress, most people don’t even see me, but him? He treats me like I’m special.”

“He’s right. Whoever he is,” A voice next to her made her startle.

“You frightened me.”

“Sorry. You are special, though,” Mari looked up and saw that the speaker was the nobleman’s son, Adrien.

“Are you talking to me or spots here?” She lifted her hand so he could see the bug.

He laughed and, in spite of herself, she smiled, too. She blew gently on the beetle and it opened its wings and flew away.

Adrien sat next to her. “I’m talking about you, Mari. You intrigue me.”

“So, I’m weird?”

“A little. You’re also opinionated, fierce, talented,” He waved a hand over the embroidery on her lap. “And beautiful…”

Her cheeks flushed at his words. She didn’t think he’d even noticed her.

If he saw her blush, he didn’t point it out. “I’ve grown up in royal courts were girls are taught to be meek and subservient towards men. Then, I came here and met strong women who fight alongside their men, your gods are largely goddesses and your queen has influence. And you? You are like a flower with thorns; beautiful and gentle, but dangerous.”

“Are you saying that I have claws?!”

He laughed melodically. “I suppose so.”

“You barely know me, Monsieur. How can you presume these things?”

“Do you know who my father is?” He asked.

“The Marquis d’Agreste.”

“Do you know where he is right now?” She shook her head. “He’s leaving for Spain to find a princess for me to marry. In the last year, I’ve met five or six girls that my father wants me to marry to elevate his and Normandy’s status. When you have an afternoon to decide if you want to spend your life with someone, you quickly become a good judge of character.”

“That’s…” She didn’t have words to describe what it was. She’d never been in a situation like it.

“Yeah.”

They both sat and stared out across the palace grounds, lost in their own thoughts. She’d never considered that life was hard for nobles, she just saw their entitlement and the respect they had for simply being born into the correct family. In the end, though, they were human, too.

“Are you excited for the feast?” Adrien broke the silence.

Her parents and the other kitchen staff were hard at work, preparing a feast for the entire palace; royalty, nobility and servants alike. King Malcolm wanted to celebrate the new warrior heroes that saved him from Mr Falcon the other day.

She nodded. “Assuming I get this dress finished in time. The Queen wants something special to wear.”

“I should leave you to it, then, Mademoiselle.” He leaned forward in a crouch, ready to stand up.

He took her hand and gently kissed her knuckles and winked almost imperceptibly at her before he stood and strode elegantly back to the palace.

She ran her thumb across the place he’d kissed, watching him as he disappeared around the corner.

“Huh.”


	10. Friends

The feast was a lavish affair. The King and Queen presided over the table when lairds, ladies, noblemen, clergy and commoners ate, laughed and mingled. Princes Edward and Edmund toddled around and charmed the guests until their nannies took them reluctantly to bed. Ethelred was passed from lap to lap until it was his bedtime, too.

Marinette sat on the farthest end of the table, away from most of the merriment.

“May I sit here?” Adrien asked.

She shuffled up the bench to make room for him. When he sat next to her, he was close enough that their legs were just touching.

“The Queen’s gown looks beautiful,” He smiled.

“Thank you, I was relieved to finish it in time.”

“Where are your friends?” He asked, looking around at the throng of people all around.

She pointed across the banqueting hall to where Alya was refilling goblets of beer and Nino was carrying a platter of fruit and nuts towards the head of the table. “Working. What about yours?”

“France,” He shrugged. “The Duc de Bourgeois has a daughter, Chloe. I guess she’s my only friend here.

She followed the end of his finger until she saw the haughty blonde girl that all the servants avoided. She was currently berating a sweet young chambermaid, Rose, for reasons best known to Chloe.

“Well, now you have another friend here, for what’s it’s worth.” She pointed at herself.

That smile spread over his face again. The one that was as warm and beautiful as a sunrise and it lit his face up almost beatifically. “Thank you.”

Mari explained what some of the traditional Scottish feast items were and Adrien reciprocated with descriptions of his favourite French foods. They laughed and talked until their plates were empty. Alya joined them with a loaded plate of her own.

“Shove up,” She wriggled in next to her, pushing Mari closer to Adrien. “Hi, I’m Alya.”

“Bonsoir, I’m Adrien,” He greeted her.

Next, Nino arrived and sat beside Alya, kissing her surreptitiously as he did. Even off duty, it was unseemly for servants to show affection for each other. As a butler, Nino had status that Alya didn’t and their relationship was frowned upon.

“Hey, man,” Nino acknowledged Adrien. “Hiya Mari, how’s the feast?”

“Well, considering my parents made most of it and my two best friends had a hand in it, too, I’m going to say it’s the best one I’ve ever been to.”

“It’s the only feast she’s ever been to,” Nino explained to Adrien.

“What?! You’ve never been to a feast before?” Adrien was incredulous.

She shrugged. “These two have worked at them before, but I was either too young or too busy to go.”

“If it’s any consolation, this is the first feast I’ve attended in Scotland where I’ve had someone to talk to, besides Chloe. So, thanks.”

“The Banshee is your friend?!”Alya asked.

“Al! You can’t say that!” Mari chided.

Adrien just laughed. “She’s the only other one my age from King William’s courts so we’re sort of forced together. She can be nice, when she’s not being stuck up or demanding.”

“And if it ever happens, I hope I’ll be there to witness it,” Alya remarked.

“Me, too,” Adrien grinned.

“Now you have three other friends here,” Mari leaned into Adrien, nudging his shoulder with hers. “Nino, Alya and me.”


End file.
